Lost & Found
by Angela3
Summary: When one door closes, another one opens...
1. Prologue

Author's Note: As I rewatch Episode II on my lovely new DVD, I realize that there is a certain beauty to the relationship between Padme and Anakin. I've always been adamantly opposed to it, but I'm coming to see it in a more sympathetic light now, and no longer denying the existance of strong feelings between the two characters. However, as well all know, that realtionship ultimately failed, and in Anakin's fall to the dark side, the two people close to him are pushed together...left with essentially no one but each other. This story explores the romance that could blossom from that need, and deals with the pain of failure and letting go. I'll try to update as much as I can, but I stay very busy with school work. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated. Enjoy!  
  
Prologue  
  
In my years with Anakin, I thought of very little other than being the best Master I could. Qui-Gon's desperate plea to me hung over my every move, and I was haunted by a desperate need to succeed for him, vowing in his death that I would not fail him again. There was no time for romance in a Jedi's life, and I scarcely noticed the beauty of females, although I was always teased by the other Jedi about the attention I received from the opposite sex. I had my lovers, yes. But my affairs were brief and dispassionate, and never more than an evening was spent not thinking of my responsibility and the great duty that I had as a Jedi. Each day the words of my mentors echoed in my mind...the men who had made me what I was. I knew that it was up to me to shape Anakin into a man -- and more importantly, into a Jedi. I could not fail.  
  
Oh, but I did. I failed, and failed miserably. I failed Qui-Gon, I failed Yoda, I failed Anakin, I failed Padme -- I failed the entire galaxy. As I felt my apprentice slipping away down the path to darkness, a place from which I knew he would never return, I felt myself slipping down a much different path. It was a place I was unfamiliar with -- a dark place, a frightening place. It was a place full of hate...not towards Anakin, not towards Palpatine, but towards myself. In the back of my head, I knew that I was good, that I was honorable. I had lead a fundamentally good life, fighting desperately for peace and justice, with no thought of reward...it had been a selfless life. Dozens -- perhaps hundreds -- of people owed their very lives to me. And I should have taken pride in this. But I did not. I could think only of all those I had failed...the lives that I could not spare from that dismal end that we call death.  
  
But then, one day, something strange happened. Anakin was off conferring with Palpatine again somewhere, and Padme came to me. We were both loosing him, and we knew it, even if subconciously. It was in the winter sometime, and she stood on the balcony of my small room looking out over the city. I could feel that she was hurting -- Anakin had long been dear to us both, and neither of us could quite comprehend his behavoir. She said nothing, only standing and looking out across the horizon, and she shivered in the cold. Suddenly, she seemed very small and vulnerable, and I realized in that moment that she needed me -- and somehow, I desperately needed her. I mentally squared my shoulders against my disgust with myself, knowing that if I could not live for myself, I would live -- for her. 


	2. Changes

As Anakin slowly began to slip out of our lives, Padme and I found ourselves drifting together. He seldom told either of us where he was going, what he was doing -- but we knew. In our hearts, we knew. He was changing...shifting. The darkness that I had feared in him from the time I met him was surfacing. In his presence, the air hung heavy with something ominous, and his eyes were stormy. I knew that he was hurting, and that his pain had pushed him towards resentment. I tried to help him, truly I did. But he only pushed me away.  
  
I was afraid. Not only for Anakin's future, but for my own, for I saw in him many of the demons that I knew lurked within myself.  
  
"I'm glad to see you're being diligent about your meditation, Anakin," I said, although we were both well aware that his desire for solitude was not an effort to become more attuned to the Force. "But is there something bothering you? You haven't been quite yourself lately."  
  
There was still a trace of our friendship there, and he spoke kindly to me. "I appreciate your concern, Master, but I'd rather be alone right now."  
  
I respected his request and tried not to pry into his business. But I knew that something was very, very wrong with my apprentice. During our stays at the Temple, he would often disappear, only to return with no explination of where he had been. He was on probation from the order by the Council, and it was my responsibility to get him back in line. I was consumed with worry. Anakin would hardly speak to me, much less listen to me. I sensed something terrible was going to happen.  
  
And it did. I was awoken one night from a restless sleep, tormented by ripples of pain in the Force...interuppted by a frantic knocking at my door. I stumbled out of bed, half dressed in only my trousers, and opened the door to find Padme there, trembling. She collapsed into my arms, sobbing, and after a moment, I led her inside by the hand. She sat on my bed, tears falling fast down her face, rolling down her chin and splashing onto the lap of her soft pink dress. I dried her eyes and held her close to me, thanking the Force that she wasn't hurt, but knowing that something was very wrong. It produced a feeling deep in the pit of my stomach, something I was almost a stranger to. It was fear, and I had never felt it so sharply before.  
  
I waited for her to speak. I smoothed her hair repeatedly, almost petting her, finding this level of intimacy strikingly unusual and surprisingly natural. I'd barely touched her before, and now here she was, pressed tightly against my bare chest. It was somehow delicious, being so close to her, and somehow horrible, given the tone of her visit. Her hand was cold on my bare skin, and her nails dug in hard enough to draw blood. I barely noticed.  
  
"He killed them," she said finally.  
  
"Who?" I fought an inner battle to remain calm, knowing that I had to be strong for her.  
  
"Teenagers," she said, an answer that seemed to make little sense, but she continued. "They were outside smoking and we -- we heard them talking. One of them was talking about how he hit his mother. He was bragging about it...he said he called her a dumb bitch and slapped her. Anakin got so angry..." She struggled to continue through her tears. "He told me he was going to make them shut up. He started yelling at them," she said. "You know how he's been since his mom died...oh, Obi-Wan, they were barely younger than him." Her voice broke. "They started making fun of him. They said such awful things. They called him a mama's boy, and then the one said -- he said, 'Why don't you run home to your mama, motherfucker?' Anakin just...exploded. He jumped on the boy and started beating him," she said. "His friends tried to help, but they just couldn't. He's too strong. I couldn't cross the street -- the traffic flow changed, and there were transports everywhere..."  
  
I kissed her forehead. "Shh," I said. "There was nothing you could've done. He would've hurt you, too."  
  
"I yelled for him to stop, but he wouldn't. He was...possessed. I saw him take out his lightsaber," she said, her voice going soft with her own fear. "And I ran."  
  
A terrible anger and fear burned within me, and I knew that things would never be the same again. I held her so tightly I thought I might break her fragile bones, and she cried quietly in my arms until she fell asleep. 


End file.
